Maybe it was getting that close to dying made them want to fight the War […] I guess they rather be around killing men than killing women
Too thick, he said. My love was too thick. What he know about it? Who in the world is he willing to die for? Would he give his privates to a stranger in return for a carving?
But it wasn’t the jungle blacks brought with them to this place from the other (livable) place. It was the jungle whitefolks planted in them. And it grew. It spread […] until it invaded the whites who had made it […] Changed and altered them […] scared were they of the jungle they had made.
"No, no. That’s not the way. I told you to put her human characteristics on the left; her animal ones on the right."
"Too thick?" […] "Love is or it isn’t. Thin love ain’t love at all."
"You got two feet, Sethe, not four"